Busses, Dia del Amigo, and Random Food Musings

To my few loyal followers, I apologize for not having posted for a while. My internet service was down for 1 week and after 4 calls, two technicians, and 3 angry visits to the main office, I'm back. Here is a brief history of my dealings with my internet and cable provider Fibertel. As far as Argentina goes, signing up for internet service was almost too easy. Granted, I had to wait 15 minutes in a line to talk to someone at the downtown office. However, once I was in front of a sales rep, signing up took all of 5 minutes.

The problems started during the installation process. As is the case even in the US, you have to wait around for up to 6 hours during the day for a technician to stop at your house/apartment. So, I had to stay home on a Monday from 8am-2pm waiting. No problem, I thought. A small price to pay for the convenience of having internet without having to pay by the hour at a cheap and dirty internet cafe/locutorio. My installer came somewhat early, which was a relief since it meant I wouldn't have to wait all day long for him. Once here, he immediately went to work and after half an hour of fooling on my balcony, running up to the roof, whipping various cables down onto my balcony, and drilling a hole through my apartment wall to put the cable through, I was blessed with cable and internet. In the process, the tech dragged in an inordinate amount of dirt, spread trash and parts throughout my apartment without cleaning them up, and then proceeded to use my restroom for an extended period of time (I don't blame him for that, I suppose. If you've got to go, you've got to go, but it was that and the combination of other messes he left that cumulatively were upsetting). Despite the mess I had to clean up when he left, I was simply happy to have internet and cable.

My honeymoon lasted a week and then one morning, my internet didn't work. The following day, I called the Fibertel office and was told that general problems were occuring in the area and would be fixed by the afternoon. The next day came and still no internet. I called again. Two technicians would come and fix the problem the following day at some point between 8am and 2 pm. I was told the techs would be at my apartment by 8:30 but they wound up there at 12:30pm. One worked on the balcony and then disappeared to the roof, never to be seen again. The other sat at my computer and started playing solitaire on it while he talked on his walky talky. After half an hour and no progress, he informed me that I was receiving an internet signal but that it was not reaching my computer for some reason and he didn't know why because that wasn't his area of expertise. I would be hearing that day from another tech who would fix the problem. The tech left and for some reason, although nothing was fixed, he left a mess of wire and parts on the ground as well as dog #$%& from the street. Bulls in a China shop.

Tech two didn't show up without an angry visit to the fibertel office. After a half an hour of waiting for the clerk at the office to find the right code to send the right type of tech to my apartment, I learned that I would have to skip another day of work to wait around to have my internet fixed. The tech showed up early. He was a young guy, tech savvy looking, and not nearly as rude and imposing as the first two Fibertel visitors. However, after 45 minutes of tinkering, he could not fix the problem. The modem is blocked, he told me. You need to call the office and have them fix it. You can't fix it, I asked? No.

I called the office, now more angry, the Spanish sailing quickly and knowingly from my mouth as I described the sequence of events to the operator at Fibertel. Ok, ok, she said. A tech will call you this morning to take care of the problem. Or not.

The following day, I camped outside of the Fibertel office. Once in, I laid into the clerk at the desk, then apologized because I knew it wasn't her fault. She explored my issue and said matter of factly, You never set up a username and password. No one ever asked me to set one up, I shot back. That's why your modem is blocked, because you haven't entered a username or password. There was never an opportunity to enter a username and password. My internet simply would not work and I was never asked to confirm or enter a username and password. Well you should have done that at the start, she said somewhat too smartly (Argentine women do not take kindly to men with attitudes, especially Americans). At this point, a more bilingual person than myself approached and asked to help me with the translation, as if my frustration had been that I couldn't understand what was being said to me. Entiendo perfectamente, gracias (I understand perfectly, thank you). The rattled looking wannabe altruist sat back down. I collected myself. Ok, ok, what do I have to do? You have to enter your username and password, she said. Ok, can I do it here? Can you please help me? Yes, she said. I quickly picked a username and password. Done she said. Go back to your apartment and your modem will be unblocked. I didn't buy it at all. I wanted her name. I wanted written confirmation. I wanted a competent tech at my apartment in 30 minutes time. I wanted my money back. But she assured me it would work. And so, reluctantly, I left the office, went straight home, and low and behold, my internet worked. 2 separate visits from technicians, 4 calls, and two visits to the office later, I found out that the reason my internet was out is that I didn't have a username and a password and the modem had therefore decided to block my service after a week....

I'm sorry for relating this frustration in detail, but I think it's important to illustrate the type of challenge that you face in Argentina that I never really dealt with in the U.S. That is, in Argentina, it's extremely difficult to get some things done. It feels as though you're riding a bike with square concrete wheels. Whereas everyone else is accustomed to this disability, you are still adjusting and cursing and waiting for the wheels to round out. But, they don't, until you round out, I suppose, and accept that 'es asi', or that's just the way it is. It's no wonder then that clocks are much harder to find in Argentina. Time is not so important. Or maybe if they all concentrated on time, they would realize how much was being wasted waiting in lines and for inneficient systems, which would be far too depressing, so throw out the clocks instead of changing the systems. Or maybe they've just decided not to play the time game the way we play it.

There is a reason I am here:) And that's partially, I think, because Argentina does not live and die by the clock. They tend to live more for long talks over mate, cakes, and alfahores (the AR cookie of choice: a combination of two sugar cookies with a heap of dulce de leche in between). And when you've got a large square of ricotta cake on your plate, a small skinny fork, and a blissful cup of coffee, a working clock is a bummer and who cares if your internet works or not.

Whining aside, I'll move on to the next subject du jour. Last year, I almost completely avoided bus travel. I'd heard that it was extremely cheap and efficient, one of the best big city systems in the world. I could catch a bus to anywhere in the city at any point during the day. All I needed was a small guidebook called a Guia-T that would allow me to figure out where to catch the bus I needed. During my first trip last winter, I relied on friends to take care of this detail for me. I hopped busses with them, paid my 1 or so peso fair and got off when my friends told me to get off. This year I promised myself that I would learn the bus system, that I would take buses myself and figure it out. Thus far, I have been reluctant to do so, but visits to parties and the apartments of friends on the other side of the city have necesitated it.

I have to say that despite minor issues, I've thus far had success getting from point A to B with the buses. Granted, I have only taken a total of 4 trips solo via colectivo. And, I had to wait once for 30 minutes for a ride and then from 12:30am-1:45am to catch a bus home (too stubborn to pay for a taxi at the time). I think the general rule is that there are likely to be more buses running during the day and on busier streets. That is, if you are planning to travel mid day on a common and much used route, you can depend with some confidence on getting to where you need to be on time. However, if you're expecting a bus in the middle of the night for a cross town journey, don't hold your breath. Take a cab. Don't do what I did. You will know that the bus is not coming when the cab drivers circle the stop like vultures, waiting for you to reach your frustration threshold and flag them down. But once you wait about 30 minutes in the middle of the night without showing interest in a cab, the taxistas take off for smarter travelers or otherwise begin ignoring people looking for rides, unless they meet some type of seasoned cab driver middle of the night criteria. Apparently, I did not, because come 1am and they all ignored me, at which point, I stopped trying to hail one so as not to draw attention to the fact that I had enough money to pay cab fair. In any case, 15 minutes later, my bus did show up and my driver butterfly stroked us through the city blocks and I was home in a matter of minutes.....

The subject of buses brings me to my next topic. Sunday was a holiday here called The Day of the Friend. Argentina has a number of holidays that the U.S. doesn't. One of them is Day of the Friend, an ode to your friend or friends, in which you get together with your friends and hang out. It's a pretty cool day here and Argentinians take it seriously, especially the kids. The night before day of the friend, the streets were filled with groups of friends singing in unison and the buses were packed at all hours with friends going out to dance, eat, shop, or as many kids like to do, just ride around together and people watch.

On the day of the friend, I went to a birthday party for my former Argentinian host father, Guillermo, who turned 50 this past Sunday. It was held in a cool old house in the leafy Belgrano neighborhood, was tastefully catered, and included dancing, a slide show, and a magic show performed by the brother of my former host mother. The party lasted until 5 in the morning and this, as it turns out, was an early ending. Yes, 80 year old folks here stay up until 5 in the morning for parties. And the next day they wake up late, drink coffee and eat cake. I can attest to this, because I was with my host mothers 80 something parents at different points over this span of time.

Speaking of cakes and the food of Argentina and the need for a segue to my favorite subject. Food down here is my current obsession. I've made it a goal to learn to use the assortment of amazing natural ingredients for which AR is known. Specifically, I'd like to learn to cook and prepare beef in different ways. At a local Carnicerea, I can buy lomo or something close to filet mignon for a little over 6 dollars/kilo. Chicken is about 1.75/kilo. And fresh white fish runs me about 4.50/kilo. Fruits and vegetables are also very cheap and of high quality. Within a one block radius of my apartment, there are at least 5 fresh fruit/vegetable stands that right now are selling beautiful looking strawberries, pears, apples, swiss chard, green pumpkins, boston type lettuce, spices, papayas, mangos, leeks etc. Often, you can find beautiful Argentinian pears for $1/kilo, lemons at about 20 cents a piece, and bags of spices for about the same. Now that I have a kitchen and am quickly accumulating supplies, I've begun experimenting with the local offerings and have thus far enjoyed a level of fresh food eating that I've never known in the U.S.

At the turn of the century, Argentina was one of the wealthiest nations on the planet. They were considered one of the bread baskets of the world due to the fertile soil and ideal conditions for growing and helped feed Europe for a generation. As the political situation took various turns for the worst, Argentina's prominence faded in and out, but for the people of the country, amazingly fresh food has for the most part been a way of life. And with a gas burning oven and three burners to myself finally, I am blissfully learning what it's like to eat fresh every day. And why not buy fresh every day instead of once/week? The carnicerea or meat shop is only two blocks from my house and there is rarely a line and the fruit/veggy shops are even closer, more plentiful, and cheaper. There are also shops for cured meats and fine cheeses on every corner where you can buy Gruyere, blue, gouda, port salut, creomoso, criolla, pate gras, and AR cheeses for very reasonable prices.

So it goes with Argentina...For every frustration, there is something truly special about this country that reminds me why I came. For all the time I saved in the US by driving my car or paying my bills in 5 minutes instead of 3 hours, or having my internet installed properly the first time, there was often a sense of isolation and a cultural and connective void. While my time here is occupied with long chats over tea and cake, my time there was occupied by constant work, time in front of my computer, and social interaction replaced by the travel channel. On top of that, it was more difficult to eat and live healthily. Here, I walk almost everywhere and have access to fresh natural food and am only tempted negatively by the carbohydrate and sugar heaven that is Buenos Aires. As a side note, I warn any South Beach or Adkins diet fanatics to save yourself from the pain. Don't come here. You will either destroy the progress on your diet or be tortured to the point of frustration and depression. The seemingly infinite number of fine bakeries offering mouth watering torts at rock bottom prices, the wood fired large topping covered pizzas for 3-4 dollars, the empanadas at 66 cents a piece, the fresh package of pasta for barely over a dollar....Need I say more.

Put differently, moving to Argentina has been a give and take experience. I've had to give up many modern conveniences and efficiencies and to more or less take a step back in time. In return for this, I've been given seemingly more time with people, better, more natural, and fresher food, and a healthier and more environmentally friendly lifestyle of walking and using public transportation.